Sons of the Stars
by Sieth Realder
Summary: The year is AC 195, in the Gundam Wing Universe, naturally. The Gundam pilots find a young boy in the bushes behind their safehouse, a discovery that will change the way they see the world. ON POSSIBLY PERMANENT HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1: Little Child

Disclaimer: Y'all should know the drill by now. I've got only one word for you: et cetera.

Sei: Um...I think that's two words...

Me: ...Quiet, you. Don't make me get out the shock prod.

* * *

**Sons of the Stars**

_By Sieth Realder_

Duo was brushing his teeth when he heard the gunshots. _Please_, he begged silently as he hurriedly rinsed the green toothpaste out of his mouth, _PLEASE don't let that be Heero going all trigger-happy on the neighborhood_. He jumped in surprise when Heero himself opened the bathroom door to shout, "Let's go, Duo!" The braided boy abruptly spit out the last of his rinsewater before rushing out of the bathroom after Heero.

The three remaining Gundam pilots met Heero and Duo as they raced down the stairs of their immaculate safehouse. Together, they ran out of the back door, towards the sharp cracks that still rang through the chill night.

The boys stopped on the back porch and listened. The gunshots had stopped, but angry shouts took their place. "Dammit! I can't believe you _lost_ him!"

"_I_ lost him! Where were _you_, you friggin'…" The heated conversation between the two rough voices faded away into the blackness of the night. Quatre let out a relieved sigh that was cut short by a rustling sound at the 7-foot tall, 4-foot wide, carefully trimmed hedge that surrounded the boys' house.

They peered cautiously at the hedge. Heero and Trowa simultaneously motioned at a small section of the huge bush that seemed to tremble slightly. They all crept slowly towards the hedge, fanning out as they approached. Heero signaled Duo to go forward as he pulled his ever-present gun carefully out of his jeans pocket and trained it on the quivering shrubbery.

Duo made his way forward, step by step, until he was close enough to touch the bush. He waited for what seemed an inexorable time before he pulled the leaves and branches aside with the speed of a striking snake.

The light streaming from the windows of the house illuminated the huddled figure of a young boy. Wufei guessed his age to be about eleven. The boy had his little arms wrapped around his knees and was breathing shallowly into their pitiful shelter. He wore a dark grey trenchcoat that looked a little too big for him over his baggy pants and ripped T-shirt. The light shone on shaggy burgundy hair and pale bruised skin. What was most appalling, Quatre thought, was that he was covered in blood that oozed sickeningly from several slashes and gunshot wounds that decorated his body.

The boy looked up weakly at the curious teenagers that closed in around him. The light illuminated his eyes, two immense shining burgundy orbs that penetrated the souls of the youths surrounding him. There was something distinctly wrong about those eyes, but the boys couldn't decide exactly what it was that bothered them. He smiled feebly at them, his breath coming raggedly in his throat. His mouth, lips cracked and bleeding, opened just a bit as he croaked hoarsely, "Brothers…" and abruptly passed out without another word, his head dropping back onto his arms.

At that moment, something happened. Something strange, something, for lack of a better word, alien. The back of Wufei's neck prickled, crowds of people closed in around him, he closed his eyes for a moment, hoping the stifling, uncomfortable feeling would end soon.

Trowa heard the wind whisper around him. He paused for a moment, poised for anything, listening, but he could not decipher the elusive poetry of the night. There was a hollow place in his stomach, and he couldn't feel his legs. _What's happening?_

Quatre heard a tiny voice, a little child's voice, behind him, murmuring to him, telling him something, something important, but he couldn't hear clearly, the sound seemed to blur once inside his ear canal. It sounded so real that he whipped around…but no one was there. He stared at the spot of grass behind him, a dull ache resting in his heart.

Heero couldn't breathe, he was drowning, drowning in the screams and explosions that he remembered hearing on so many missions, the pain was coming back, the pain of sending all those people to their graves forevermore….

Duo felt an awkward ache in the center of his back, as if something was missing there, he turned to look at Heero, but everything was a swirling black on black. He gasped in fear; he couldn't see, he couldn't see!…

He blinked. They all stood there, looking as if they had seen ghosts. They seemed all right other than that, but all appeared severely shaken. Duo knew without asking that he looked the same way. His gaze turned back to the boy, still huddled in the hollow of the bush, now unconscious. He heard Wufei sigh in relief behind him and Trowa ask pragmatically, "What do we do with him?" Then he heard, as if in answer, a sharp click.

He spun towards Heero and gaped wide-eyed as the dark-haired boy removed the safety on his gun and pointed it at the child. Quatre gasped. "Heero! You're not serious!"

Heero didn't move. There was a pause. "He's seen too much," Heero grunted abruptly, harshly, sounding as if the words had been forced from him. His finger tightened on the trigger.

Duo couldn't control himself as he darted forward and smacked the gun sharply out of Heero's hand. The two glared at each other, silently battling their wills. The others held their breath, waiting; for what, they weren't sure. Suddenly Duo spoke up.

"What the hell has he _seen_, Heero? Anyway, the kid _needs_ our help, goddammit, unless those perfect eyes of yours didn't notice the wounds that _happen_ to be covering his body! Who knows what this kid's been through? He's still alive, you know," Duo hissed fiercely, pointing at the huddled figure still half-hidden in the bushes, "and I, for one, am _not_ gonna be some weird sadist or something who'd just watch a little kid _die_ in that condition! _Or_ kill him without giving him a chance!" He held Heero's intense gaze, his determination matching the Japanese boy's.

There was a long silence, during which Heero glowered at Duo; Wufei tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for them to fight it out already; and Quatre wrought his hands until they were bright red. _If it comes to blows between them_, the blonde thought, _there's not much we can do to stop them. And there's still that kid to think about_. Trowa put a protective hand on Quatre's shoulder as if in answer to his musings.

Finally the stillness was broken by Heero's grunted, "All right. We'll help him."

Quatre blew out a relieved sigh, not realizing that he had been holding his breath, and shared a small smile with Trowa. At a small, purposeful nod from Duo, Wufei stepped forward, carefully lifted the child, and carried him inside.


	2. Chapter 2: Waiting

Wufei sat on the floor of the living room, his legs crossed under him in his usual manner, eyes closed in a show of serenity he definitely did _not_ feel. He cracked open an eyelid at the sound of footsteps approaching, and then sighed inwardly as Quatre's anxious, rigid profile came into view for the twenty-ninth time. The blonde had spent the last half-hour pacing slowly through the adjoined rooms of the house's ground level in an endless circle. By now his stiff steps were grating on Wufei's nerves, and his once-relaxed posture was rigid with agitation.

Trowa, seated on the large couch that dominated the living room, noticed Wufei's brief glance of annoyance toward Quatre, and as the Arabian boy made to pass him, he half-stood and grabbed his arm, effectively halting him. He drew the blonde gently towards him as he sat back down; the result was that Quatre ended up on the couch next to Trowa. As Quatre instantly began to fidget, the taller boy sighed softly. "Quatre, there's nothing you can do right now but wait."

Quatre wrought his hands helplessly. "I'm sorry. I can't help it. That boy is hurt, and there's so little for me to do to keep my mind off it." Trowa grabbed his hands and held them gently but firmly away from each other.

Wufei spoke for the first time. "He's in our infirmary. Heero and Duo are doing all they can. If they need our help, they'll ask for it. Heero isn't a fool, though I can't say the same for Maxwell. And if we can't do anything for the boy, we'll call that woman."

Quatre finally smiled. "Sally," he reminded the Chinese boy.

"Yes. Her." Wufei closed his eyes in irritation.

"You see, Quatre?" Trowa asked gently, putting a comforting arm around the blonde. "Everything's going to be f—"

"EEEEEYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

"What the—" Wufei, although sitting, toppled over in surprise.

Trowa's brow creased. "What's Duo yelling about?" For the voice obviously belonged to the braided boy.

Without waiting for an answer, Trowa led the other two pilots up the stairs to the infirmary.


	3. Chapter 3: What is he?

Uh...yeah. Sorry about not having a disclaimer on the previous chappie. So, for the record, there are _two_ (2!) disclaimers on this chapter, to make up for the lack of disclaimer-ness on the other one. _And here's the first one_...

Ahem. I do not own Gundam Wing, its characters, scenes, and so on and so forth.

_And the second_...

_Again_, I do not own Gundam Wing, blah blah blah. However, I _do_ own all non-company-owned anime/manga characters mentioned at any time in all of this fic (i.e. Sei, most of the time, and a few others), and if you try to steal any of them, so help me I will _hunt you down_. (bright smile) Thank you.

* * *

The sight that met the eyes of Trowa, Quatre, and Wufei, after they had burst through the infirmary door, was startling. Duo was collapsed against the wall furthest from the large stainless-steel table that was situated slightly left of the room's center. He was staring, eyes wider than dinner plates, at the table and the figure on it, alternately pointing at it and making high-pitched, incoherent sounds. Heero was backed away from the table as well and had carefully placed himself between it and Duo. 

The still-unconscious boy on the table was the most surprising sight of all. His arms, legs, and forehead were covered in stark white bandages, and he was in a curious position: somewhat laying on his side, as if Duo and Heero had been in the process of turning him over when Duo had screamed and leapt back. The trenchcoat was partially under him; the boys had obviously been trying to take it off to check and bandage his back. The coat's sleeves had been ripped off—probably by pragmatic Heero—and were lying on the floor.

What made all of the pilots' eyes widen, however, was the fact that the boy's back was dominated by a pair of immense silvery-black, feathered wings; moreover, a rather large, long, and bushy silver-tan foxtail protruded from his backside.

All five teens stared, unblinking, at the winged boy. Several minutes passed in which Heero managed to calm Duo down. For the most part. Even as the pilots watched, the child's face and body grew and aged until he looked to be in his early twenties. His dark hair grew rapidly, stopping when it reached about mid-thigh. Its shiny burgundy color changed to silvery-gold, but never lost its tamed shagginess. His ears wiggled up the sides of his head to rest on top, changing to become larger, pointed, furrier, and essentially canine-like.

Duo whimpered and clawed desperately at the wall. Heero bent down, dragged the braided boy's arm around his shoulder, and supported Duo as he struggled to hobble out of the room. Trowa closed the door behind them; Heero let go of Duo, who immediately sagged against the wall, his knees trembling violently.

Quatre was the first to speak. "Who—what—_is_ that?"

Duo looked up from the floor, where he had slid after his legs had given out on him. "How t-the hell sh-sh-should _I_ know?" he stuttered angrily.

"This is why I didn't want to help him. He's most likely an extraterrestrial of some kind." Heero crossed his arms and nodded self-righteously.

"A…WHAT!" Duo exclaimed as he struggled to stand under his own power. Trowa and Wufei caught him as he stumbled forward, still babbling. "An—an—ALIEN? Is that even possible, Heero? Aliens…they haven't been discovered yet, have they? Oh, god…" Disgusted, Wufei released Duo. Trowa followed suit, and the braided boy fell uncaring to the floor again.

"Stop your whining, Maxwell," Wufei hissed. He turned away, irritated with the American.

A pained moan sounded from the infirmary.


	4. Chapter 4: I am myself

Disclaimer: Don't own Gundam Wing. But I _do_ own Sei. Tach-a heem, and Ai _keel_ you.

**Important Note: **This here chappie's all from mah baby Sei's POV. That's why 'tis all in first person. Ta ta, and enjoy!

* * *

I woke. Pain assaulted me, and I could not stifle a loud groan as I sat up slowly. I touched my midriff, feeling the bandages that covered me almost without a break. Fire lanced suddenly through my head, and I bent forward reflexively, my hands clutching my temples. As the pounding in my head rose to an unbearable crescendo, I dug my claws into my scalp, the new resulting pain going unnoticed.

Claws?

I slowly pulled a hand away from my head to stare at it. I blinked incomprehensibly for a few seconds, then moaned. "Oh, shit." I moved my hands carefully over my body, knowing the changes that had ripped through me as well as I knew myself.

I halted abruptly in my self-examination to study my surroundings. I seemed to be in some kind of medical room, as everything was clean, pristine, and white. I eyed the room apprehensively. Beyond the white door, I could hear a murmured conversation, though I did not recognize the voices.

I pricked my ears forward, listened harder. I couldn't make the words out clearly, but the speakers sounded young. _Ah, yes,_ I thought, closing my eyes briefly. _The boys I saw before. Those ones…_

A sudden noise made me open my eyes. They were coming through the door, fanning out almost instinctively, their weapons drawn. I smiled inwardly. They reminded me of wolves, in the way they moved as a group. _Pack hunters_, I thought, shivering—not with fear, but with excitement. _Just like me._

They all stood very still, as if afraid that if any of them moved, I would attack. I grinned, showing my razor fangs, as I brushed my long bangs up and away from my face. They all stared, transfixed, at my claws and pointed teeth, true, but especially at my eyes.

They had a reason to. My eyes were certainly not anything they had ever seen before, I was sure. They were grossly mismatched, for one thing: one bright green, the other soft violet. They also had pupils that were vertical slits, reminiscent of a cat's. Altogether, to these children my eyes were certainly the strangest things they had ever seen. Besides the rest of me, perhaps.

I shifted on the medical table, startling them. The teenager in the middle—a boy with thick, dark brown bangs and evening-dark blue eyes—brought his gun up to point unshakingly at my forehead. His eyes narrowed to hateful little slits. I just looked at him silently, knowing that calm in the face of a storm will often endear one to others. His eyes flashed; something wavered in his mind. I could feel it, almost taste it. Without commanding them to, my nostrils flared and my ears pricked toward his interesting young mind. I sternly ordered my body to obey my will instead of its instinct.

The blond boy spoke, a tremor plainly evident in his voice, distracting me from the dark blue-eyed one. "Who—what—who are you?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, caught in a dilemma. What could I tell them? A lie? Well, it would be the wisest course, but then they wouldn't trust me, and I needed them for however long I would be staying here. I have always been able to lie well—extremely well, in fact—but I knew by the feel of their minds that I might not be able to put one over on such as these. The truth, then? But that would endanger them greatly; and even such obviously well-trained boys might not be able to defend themselves.

I opened my eyes. The truth. Yes, a truth.

Or a part of one, anyway.


	5. Chapter 5: Stay

Disclaimer: Don't own Gundam Wing. _Do_ own Sei.

Wow. Oh, wow. I'm so happy right now. Why? Because I...got...REVIEWED! (jumps up and down for five solid minutes) Arigato, Danke Schoen, Grazie, Gracias, and THANK YOU to those who reviewed my stuff, I adore you all! YAY! I'm inspired to actually update regularly now!

Hokay, I'd better stop the hysterics before I hurt myself. Enjoy!

* * *

The stranger sighed, shrugging his great-winged shoulders as he did so. "What do you wish to know?" he asked simply, his clashing eyes glowing with hidden intelligence. 

"Everything," Quatre replied, swallowing hard.

The man smiled gently at the blonde. "All right."

Duo couldn't control himself. "What the hell _are_ you?" he blurted.

"What do you think?" the man asked curiously, directing his piercing stare at the braided boy.

"An alien?" Duo's voice was trembling with nerves, but also sounded strangely hopeful.

The winged wolf-man grinned and shook his head. "Of course not. I am a half-demon."

"A—what?" Wufei asked, blinking stupidly. He was not the only one that was caught between shock and confusion at the man's casual statement.

"Half-demon. Me." The dog-man reiterated this by pointing to himself with an elongated claw. The teens found their eyes drawn to the long, pointed nail, staring at it suspiciously—and in Duo and Quatre's case, fearfully. _Will he use those on us? Will he attack?_ Quatre thought, eyes widening.

Heero was the next to speak. "What do you want from us?"

The man raised a tawny eyebrow in surprise and said, "Nothing," as if the question had never occurred to him. (Which was the truth—he hadn't expected anything from these strange humans, but they didn't know that, of course.) When Heero continued to stare at him with narrowed eyes, he added, "Just some shelter for a bit, only two days at most." He paused for half a moment, studying their faces. "Is that all right?"

The five teens hesitated, privately giving each other uncomfortable glances. This creature—this "demon"—did not know they were Gundam pilots. He didn't even know their names. But if he stayed with them, he would find out both pieces of information; it was inevitable. And with that knowledge, his life could potentially be put in danger. More importantly, he would be a liability to them. He could go to OZ and offer to sell them. If he stayed…Heero's sharp, bloody mind was the first to reach the realization, with the other four swiftly following.

It was the only conceivable conclusion for this man, should he be allowed stay with him.

_Kill him._

The winged "demon" contemplated their silence. His eyes suddenly widened a bit—Trowa, in particular, made a note of it—but he recovered himself almost instantly. "Never mind," he said calmly. "I'll leave."

The teens backed away silently as he jumped off the table. He landed awkwardly, then stumbled slightly as one knee contracted spasmodically and tried to give out from underneath him. He ignored his body's numerous complaints and walked steadily and resolutely out the infirmary door.

Duo fell to his knees with a tiny whimper, the stress finally taking over. With the exception of Quatre's brief pitying glance and Heero's slightly irate glare, the others ignored him and followed the man out of the room and through the house as he directed himself unerringly to the front door.

When the man reached the door, he turned and nodded at the four boys still following him cautiously. "Thank you, by the way," he said, smiling at them. "I'm grateful." He turned away and pulled the door open.

As he walked over the threshold, Duo, who had managed to get to the head of the stairs and was looking down on them all, gave a small shriek of shock and clutched his head. Even as he watched the man walk out, Duo's vision wavered and doubled…for a brief moment, he saw Heero there instead, walking away with his classic grim resignation. The illusion changed rapidly, to show Quatre, Trowa, and Wufei in turn.

The other boys turned around and focused their attention on Duo. At Quatre's worried cry of "Duo! What's wrong?" the man—who was now a wavering double of Wufei, but was beginning to quiver and change into someone else, Duo couldn't tell who yet—stopped and turned to look up at the teenager on the landing with mild concern.

Duo gave a strangled gasp; the man/Heero/Quatre/Trowa/Wufei's transformation into someone else had finished and he saw _himself_ standing in the doorframe, looking up at him. Duo's amethyst eyes looked into his own eyes looking into his own eyes looking into his own eyes…

He screamed incoherently, and the world tipped, tumbled and swirled violently around him. He could barely feel the pain as the room spun and blurred together. He heard the others' cries of "He's gonna hit his head!" and "Catch him!" but only distantly, as if through a long tunnel. Everything around him did one last spirited somersault before crashing to a bone-jarring halt. Then there was only black for just an instant.

Duo opened his eyes. As the world slowly swam into focus, he found himself looking up into cold, intense Prussian-blue eyes just a few inches from his face. He yelped and struggled a little before he recognized that face and the iron-solid grip firmly restraining him. Heero, of course. Duo looked at his friends, who were clustered around him in concern while he subsided in Heero's arms.

He realized something strange: they were all at the bottom of the stairs. His mind worked and reached the obvious conclusion: he had fallen down the stairs. At least he wasn't hurt. _Ow_, he thought as he winced suddenly, _I'm not _mostly _hurt, then._

He wondered why he was _in_ Heero's arms in the first place, but his unspoken question was almost immediately answered when Trowa glanced at Heero and muttered, "Nice catch. He didn't even hit his head, though there might be some bruising elsewhere. That'll be all, I think, though." Heero didn't answer, except for a noncommittal "hn".

Duo gasped at the abrupt change in perspective as Heero suddenly stood up without relinquishing his hold on him. The Japanese boy turned to glare accusingly at the winged man, who still stood in the doorway. Duo scrutinized the man closely, struggling to see himself and his friends there again—but there was only the "demon", his mismatched eyes staring at Heero unblinkingly.

"Well? What did you do to Duo?" Heero asked the man angrily.

The man snarled. "I didn't do _anything_," he said, his lip curling up to reveal a razor-sharp wolf's fang. It was a warning, one that said he would not tolerate either false accusations or threats. Trowa recognized that ancient predatory signal instantly; he had seen it often, during his work with the circus and its sometimes-volatile lions. It meant, in a nutshell, "Back down or you'll be breathing through a large hole in your chest cavity." His stomach sank, and he moved surreptitiously to take up a place partially blocking Quatre, to protect his love from a potential attack.

Duo wiggled in Heero's arms, trying to get him to let him down, but quickly gave up and settled into a more comfortable position. "Heero, he didn't do anything. I just…thought I saw something, and I got a little dizzy," he grumbled. "I'm fine now, though. Put me down."

Heero transferred his glare to Duo. "Are you sure?" he murmured reluctantly.

"Yes! It was my _own_ damn fault I fell down the stairs! Are ya _happy_ now? Now put me down!"

Heero ignored this last and looked back up at the dog-man as Duo squirmed and shoved at his chest in vain.

Duo gave up again with an irritable "hmph!" and joined in staring at the man in the door. "So, since Heero won't let me go, I'll just have to suffer the humiliation and ask you this." Duo flung caution to the winds as he spoke his next words. He knew, somehow, that they were the right things to say. "Would you stay with us for a while? Two days, like you said? You're still injured and stuff, and we've got plenty of room." He ignored the uneasy looks he received from the others. He always trusted his gut—you _had_ to, to survive the streets as long as he had—and his gut told him that this man was…not _special_, that was already obvious, but more like…important. Necessary.

The man hesitated, his eyes sweeping over all of them. Destiny swirled down and centered all of her attention on this one moment. The air thickened with a twanging tension as she observed the scene with mild interest. Duo became uncomfortable in his position in Heero's arms, but was too nervous to shift.

Finally, one agonizing minute later, the man smiled and nodded once.

Duo whooped in relief, transferring his weight as he did so. "Great!" he chirped.

Quatre smiled at his longhaired friend, who was now pushing at Heero's chest in yet another effort to make him let him down and failing spectacularly. He turned his smile on the winged man as he shut the door to. Strangely enough…he felt light, as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It was hard to explain, but this—this sheltering of this stranger, it felt _right_. Not right in any particular way, but in terms of the world in general, it was right.

He might not have felt as good if he had known Duo had been thinking precisely the same thing just before.

Quatre addressed the winged man kindly. "So, what's your name? I am Quatre. This is Trowa, that one is Wufei, that's Heero there, and the one in his arms is Duo."

"I see." The man stepped forward and gave a small bow. "My name is Tharasei."

Destiny left, smiling to herself. She was glad for him. She had always had a thing for Sei. Now all she had to do was get her sister, Death, to stop chasing after him, and she would be in business.

* * *

What do ya'll think? Just a note--this story's gonna be alot about the G-boys' relationship with Sei, so...yeah. (But don't worry, it's not gonna be like _that_.) So far the pairings are (if you haven't guessed already): definite 3x4, and hints of 1x2. But that particular pairing won't happen until much later. Sorry about the yaoi pairings, for those of you who don't like them. But I can't help it; I can't stand any of the females in Gundam Wing. I dunno why. Maybe it's b/c I'm a girl and I want the G-boys for myself. (sweatdrop) Whatever. 

Another note: Sei, although a demon with extraordinary powers, actually did _not_ do anything to Duo's head to get him to invite Sei to stay. For once, Sei wasn't lying (thank the gods). Also--yes, I have a tendency to personify things. Homunculi are cool. Get used to it.

Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed. Ja ne!


	6. Chapter 6: Interlude

Disclaimer: I do not and can never own Gundam Wing, any of its settings or characters. That fact kind of pisses me off, but hey, I didn't think up these guys first, so I can't claim them as mine. However, as I know I am consantly reminding any and all who actually read these kinds of notes, Sei is MY brainchild. MINE. No takee, and everything will be okie-day, ya?

Okay, enough of random tangents. Enjoy!

* * *

It was 1 o'clock in the afternoon. A horrible combination of screamo and techno music that, frankly, really _did_ sound like cats being strangled suddenly blasted through the house. 

"MAXWELL!" came the enraged shout from the direction of Wufei's room, where he had been sleeping peacefully. He wasn't the only one. After all, they had all gotten to sleep at around 4, due to the whole incident from the night before, which had continued with a long drawn-out conversation about various necessary issues (such as a further repetition from Sei as to what he was, and what household rules he was expected to obey—which were pretty simple, as there weren't any real rules except "clean up after yourself" and "don't invade anyone's privacy"), and culminated with Duo falling asleep while trying to stand up and doing a spectacular face-plant into a couch cushion. Only Heero, Trowa, and Tharasei—who had told them to just call him Sei—had risen to the day relatively early, which was, in this case, about noon-ish.

The three of them were in the kitchen, where Sei was helping Trowa to make breakfast/lunch for the three still-presumably-sleeping pilots, and Heero was typing furiously on his laptop. He didn't bother concealing the screen; Sei had already informed them during the late-night talk that he knew they were all Gundam pilots, thank you very much. When asked how he had found out, the demon eyed the ceiling and refused to answer.

After this revelation, Heero had gone to sleep reviewing every method he knew for killing a person swiftly and silently, and was still debating over which way he should dispose of the threat. But…each time he dwelled on it, he felt as though his heart was twisting like a wrung cloth. He could only ignore it with a lot of effort. Which he was struggling to do at the moment.

Sei turned and looked at the ceiling in the direction of the cacophony. "Does he always play his music that loudly?" he asked, flinching and laying his ears back in an attempt to muffle the noise a bit.

Trowa glanced at Sei amusedly from his work at chopping cucumbers for Quatre's salad. "Only to annoy Wufei," he said, smiling.

"Ah. Well, here's the celery for that salad." Sei spun and stalked out of the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Heero called suspiciously.

"To smash that stereo system in."

"Oh." Heero and Trowa wisely stayed in the kitchen. _They_ weren't going up into that black hole of sound and ensuring _their_ deaths by threatening Duo's precious sound system.

Sure enough, there was a crash a minute later, followed by abrupt silence and then "WHAT THE HELL! YOU TOUCHED MY STEREO! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

"Ah. The start to a beautiful friendship," Trowa said, shaking his head and grinning. Heero's reply was a sigh of relief; at least the hell of sound Duo designated as "music" had been mercifully cut off, though there was much incoherent shouting and thuds from upstairs.

Quatre walked into the kitchen and plopped down into the nearest chair. He smiled gratefully at Trowa as the taller boy wordlessly handed him his food. "I got past him before he went into Duo's room. Somehow I expected them to clash over Duo's choice of music." He hoped, though, that Sei hadn't damaged Duo's stereo too badly. It had been quite expensive, which was one of the reasons that the longhaired boy worshiped it.

Wufei hurried into the kitchen and downed his waiting tea in one gulp, not caring that it burned his throat and the roof of his mouth. He then proceeded to wolf down his food. The other three pilots watched him with expressions that suggested the Chinese boy had just sprouted another head or two. The commotion overhead continued, but in the kitchen there was only a stunned, confused silence.

"Uh, Wufei? What are you doing?" Quatre finally asked in a small voice.

Pausing briefly to wipe his mouth with his napkin, Wufei said, "The both of them…if the upper stories are still intact, I'll be surprised." He nearly choked on a piece of bread he had crammed into his mouth as the shouting grew louder and turned pale. "They're coming downstairs. I'm getting out of here before the hurricane hits the kitchen. You'd all better eat fast and get out, too, while you still can. They'll probably turn over the table—" He took one last gulp of hot water before Trowa could put in the teabag and scurried out the door.

Quatre stared after him. "How long will it take him to figure out that he just walked into the pantry?" he asked Trowa, who had, with his usual calm, taken the seat next to him. "And we should really get out of here, if it's that bad."

Heero, who had typed steadily throughout the entirety of the exchange, said, "Wufei tends to exaggerate. Don't worry," without looking away from his laptop.

The yelling became more coherent as the two fighters approached the kitchen. Wufei came out of the pantry looking both embarrassed and hunted, and then the four of them froze into a stance usually reserved for cornered animals as the volume increased. They listened to the shouting match, in which it was obvious that Sei was getting the better of Duo. It went something like this:

"How come you smashed my stereo? My _stereo_, man! Do you have any idea how much it cost me?"

"I didn't smash your stereo, kid. I _disabled_ it. You, of all people, should know the difference."

"Well, _un-_disable it!"

"Only if you stop playing shitty music. I've heard some pretty bad stuff in my time, but that crap tops them all. Learn some taste."

"…"

The two longhaired people entered the kitchen, still arguing, barely noticing that there were persons frightened for their lives in the vicinity. "What's your problem with music, anyway?" Duo grumbled as he sat down to eat.

"I don't have any problem with music. But that, _that_ was not music. Duo, it sounds like constipated bobcats savaging each other." Sei poured some tea into a pair of mugs, and beckoned to Wufei to sit. He handed the apprehensive black-eyed boy the second mug. "If it _had_ been music, I wouldn't have pulled the plug on it. But since all it _was_ was inarticulate screeching, I didn't define it as music. And besides, if you could hear the…less-than-appropriate…undercurrent lyrics, you'd be offended by it, too."

"Whaddya mean, 'if I could hear the undercurrents'?"

"There are subliminal messages in that music, Duo," Sei said with a sigh.

Quatre piped up, interested enough that he was willing to risk possible Death-by-Knife-Thrown-by-Duo for interrupting. "Really? How can you tell?"

Sei tapped one of his hairy, pointed wolf's ears. "I've got good hearing," he said simply.

"Hn. Really." Heero wasn't impressed. He glowered at Sei as he spoke.

"Yeah. _Really_," Sei retaliated, giving Heero a look that said he wouldn't mind sending him to the Next World early.

"Erm…meanwhile…" Quatre broke off the glaring match in a timid voice, "we've all got stuff we have to do today, right? Heero, don't you and Duo have that mission this afternoon?"

The boy thus addressed nodded slowly and said, "Yeah. I'm ready to go now. Duo won't be ready for another hour and a half, though."

Duo sputtered. "Ex_cuse_ me? Well, sor_ry_ for holding you up, Mr. Perfect Soldier. I'll prepare my gear toot sweet!" He shoveled the rest of his sandwich into his mouth, where it puffed his cheeks out so ridiculously that it made him look like a cute, violet-eyed, longhaired chipmunk with a day's worth of sunflower seeds in its cheek pouches; downed his apple cider without bothering to swallow what was already in his mouth, which made him look even funnier, cuter and more ridiculous; and leapt out of the room.

Another silence pervaded the kitchen as the assembled males—human or otherwise—listened to the thuds and crashes that were characteristic of Duo getting ready for anything. Quatre shifted.

"Um…what's 'toot sweet' mean?" he asked.

* * *

Yeah...sorry if ya'll were expecting something serious. I needed a break from serious. I'll be taking these aforementioned breaks rather often, you'll find, although I doubt they'll take up an enitre chapter again. Also, I kind of really want to show the G-boys interacting with Sei as they would with a good friend--it'll be important later. 

Please R&R! Reviews make me so warm and bubbly inside!


	7. Chapter 7: Stay, For Real

Oookay...so first things first before I forget...

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its affiliated characters (goddammnit!). I do own Sei. He be mine. No touchee. Kapish?

Anyway, I must admit that this is kind of fun. I enjoy reviews and pocky, for those who are interested in giving me any.

...Mebbe we should just go to the story. Ta ta!

* * *

"Shit! Dammit! Shitfuckshitshitshitshit…" Duo cursed. He cursed OZ and their bombs and guns, not to mention Heero, as he walked through the safehouse's back door with aforesaid boy slung over one shoulder. 

Trowa and Wufei, who were just beginning cook dinner, looked up in alarm. "Oh, no! Heero! What happened, Duo?" Quatre, who was sitting at the table going over reports, exclaimed worriedly as he took in the blood trickling down past Duo's neck and down his back, mingling with his chestnut hair, which had pulled loose of its confines and hung freely. "Are you hurt, too?"

"Got shot in the leg, but it's not too bad," Duo grunted. He declined to hand his unconscious friend over to Trowa but limped up to the infirmary, with the rest of the pilots following. "One guy was a pretty good shot. He knew what he was doing, too. Clipped me one in the back of the calf as I was getting through the outer wall. The car was real close, though, so it wasn't so bad."

When they arrived at the clean white room, Duo finally placed the unconscious Japanese boy on the medical table and sat on one of the counters, in a corner out of the way. Quatre immediately tended to the wound on the longhaired teen's calf, removing the bullet and dressing it with clean linen bandages.

Meanwhile, Trowa and Wufei had gently but methodically stripped Heero of his clothes before gaping at the extensiveness of the wounds he had sustained. "Duo? How did…how did Heero come by these injuries?" Wufei asked in what he thought wasn't a shaky voice.

Duo hissed as Quatre dressed his leg wound. "His own bomb. Heero hadn't gotten away fast enough. Or maybe he didn't get away at all. I went back in after him when he didn't meet up with me outside. I found him in the ruins of the weapons building."

Quatre gasped in horror. "Another suicide attempt, do you think?"

"Yeah. I _do_ think. I really don't want to, that's the problem." Duo turned his head to the wall so the rest of them wouldn't see the angry tears in his eyes. Why kill himself? Why now? They were so close, _so close_ to ending the war…and Heero still didn't believe his life mattered or would ever matter, to anyone, no matter how many times Duo had insisted the contrary. Duo clenched his teeth. _God dammit!_

Sei startled them all. He stalked silently through the door with the graceful soundless tread of a hunting mountain lion. And with the same amount of politely lethal menace. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of blood, and his ears were laid back against his head. His eyes were strange, as if everything he looked at didn't really belong in the world at all, and contained all the pain and weariness of centuries.

He turned this wise, otherworldly, and ancient gaze on Duo, who, unwittingly, bristled angrily at the flatness in the wolf-man's stare. Sei spoke quietly. "Do not curse any god, Duo. You never know when they are listening."

He ignored the longhaired boy's stunned expression, as well as the equally stunned expression on the blonde tending him, and stepped forward delicately to where Heero was laying, still unconscious. Wufei glared at Sei, even as he gave ground to the demon. Sei ignored this as well.

Trowa, who was on the other side of the table and was working rapidly to wash Heero's insentient body and bandage the cleaned and disinfected areas, looked up at the winged man, but said nothing, just passed him a new washcloth and bowl of disinfected water. Sei nodded to Wufei, who shuffled forward tentatively, and the two of them worked side by side to clean Heero of dirt and crusted blood. There was silence for a while.

It was rather nice, Quatre found himself thinking. The quiet in the room was companionable, although not completely at ease; the winged wolf-demon unnerved them all in more ways than one, although if asked, none of them would have been able to explain it.

Finally, Heero was laying in one of the infirmary's small fold-out wall beds, bandaged snugly but still comatose. Duo sat on another cot with his back leaning against the wall. His gaze shifted surreptitiously from the sleeping form next to him to Sei, who was quietly washing his hands of blood and filth.

Without any prompting from the pilots, he began cleaning the bowls and tweezers and other equipment with boiling water and sterilizing them. As he worked, he kept his mouth closed. Duo dreaded that he was saving his words for a more opportune moment, and that those words weren't going to exactly be kind. The reserved silence was unsettling and almost tangible by now. Duo feared the storm he could feel was coming; he knew, although he couldn't understand _how_ he knew, that Sei's taciturnity was actually a powerful rage that he was carefully holding in with great effort. When the storm broke, it would be the boundless claws-teeth-and-fire fury of a truly angry demon.

"So."

_Ah. Here we go,_ thought Duo, trying to push the mind-numbing fear away and failing.

"So. Does this happen often?"

Unwisely—or perhaps ignorantly, unaware of any flash of comprehension like Duo's—Quatre answered. He tried to make his tone light and bantering, but no one was fooled; they could all plainly hear the strain in the little blonde's voice. "Oh, yeah. We're always getting hurt on missions. But we usually don't. And if we do, well, we know how to take care of oursel—"

"I mean the attempted suicide, you fool! Do you think I'm daft?" Sei rounded on them. Quatre immediately wished he hadn't said anything: the demon's eyes were flashing. Literally flashing, though it was actually more like glowing. The discordant green and violet would suddenly brighten violently and burn impressions of themselves in the back of one's eyes (1) before returning to normal again, only for the process to repeat a few seconds later. _And here I thought that was only an expression in literature,_ the Arabian thought miserably.

Surprising everyone, including himself, Wufei endeavored to defend Heero's actions. "Yes? If you really were _not_ daft, then you would see that it is actually none of your business. None of this is your business."

"Oh?" Sei mimicked Wufei. "And why isn't it?"

"You're only staying here until tomorrow," Wufei rejoined smoothly. "I hardly think you should be any more involved than you already are. Besides, why should you care about us?"

Heero startled them all, with the exception of Sei; they hadn't known he was awake and listening intently. "Yes. If I choose to die—" here the otherGundam pilots flinched inwardly "—then it is no business of yours."

For the first time, Sei was surprised. "What do you mean?" he asked, frowning.

Heero spoke the words that, although none of them would ever admit it, had rankled in their hearts—along with the contradictory feeling that harboring the demon was their destiny. "You are a stranger. You do not know us, any of us, at all. Stop pretending as if you know us."

"You _asked_ me to stay here," Sei spat.

"Wrong. _Duo_ asked you to stay. He did it without consulting the rest of us, which in any case was extremely presumptuous of him." Duo cast Heero a hurt look at this, even though he knew the Japanese boy was right. But it had just felt _right_—surely Heero had felt it too?

Heero completely ignored Duo's hurt-puppy glance and continued. "We don't want you here. You are ignorant of the danger, and thus you are a threat to us. Plus, you just simply don't belong here. You don't fit in. If you weren't still injured, I for one would be the first to throw you bodily out the door."

Heero had said all of this with the hope that the winged man would get out of the house and leave them all the hell alone—or at least get incensed enough to attack, so they could have a reason to chase him out. What he received was nothing like what he had expected to see: for a tiny, almost non-existent moment that seemed to last a century, Sei stared at him with…not anger, or even irritation. It was not even pity for Heero's wounds or his cold temperament, such as he saw in that annoying girl Relena's eyes. It was sorrow, and isolation. For that moment, he looked just as Heero had felt all of his life—as if no one cared about him, and no one loved him, and everyone just hated him. Heero could see clearly into the demon's eyes, and they were like mirrors of his own, only much, much darker; the depths of the loneliness and pain he had to bear were bottomless. Dimly, in a Dr. J-forged corner of his mind that was not suddenly overcome with horror and sorrow, Heero wondered exactly how old Sei was to have carried so much anguish with him until it had gouged such deep pits into his soul that there could never be any possibility for catharsis. After that deliberation, another distinctly more disturbing thought wended its way into his brain: what kinds of things had _happened_ to him, to have him scarred so deeply?

_Who _is _this man?_

And, as suddenly as it had come, the heartbreaking stare had vanished, smoothed away as if it was a wrinkled bedspread unexpectedly straightened. It was still there, but it was firmly closed off in a way uncomfortably familiar to Heero; he saw that same expression in the mirror every day. Overwhelming guilt and sorrow smothered Heero and he gasped heavily, not realizing he had stopped breathing.

Sei blinked slowly, as if willing himself to court calm. "I see," he said flatly. "I will accede to your wishes and leave now." He turned away.

"No!" Duo burst out, earning himself uncertain glares from the others. They wanted the demon-man to leave…right? Heero, for one, was not so sure anymore. Quatre looked as if he wanted to support Duo, but wasn't certain whether to do it would be the best action or not. Trowa stared at Sei indifferently; he couldn't care less either way. And Wufei…well, at least Heero wasn't alone in his opinion. He could see the uneasiness written all over the Chinese boy's face.

"No!" Duo repeated. Sei stopped in surprise. He turned to look at them as Duo whispered, "Please." Heero felt his heart sink despite himself; he never wanted to hear Duo plead like that again. It seemed almost a demeaning of the cheerful braided boy.

Duo went on, a desperate note in his voice. "I don't get it, but…see…you belong here. It's like—I dunno—but it just _feels_ better with all of us here…" he faltered and trailed off, and looked around at the others for help.

Unexpectedly, Trowa spoke. The words, concordant with his usual calm silence, were simple, but the air rang with them after they were said. "We are whole, right here."

There was silence. Duo nodded slowly, and a wide grin unfurled on his face as he considered Trowa. He met Sei's eyes and nodded again. One by one, they repeated the gesture of welcome and acceptance. First Quatre, then Trowa immediately, then Wufei, who flung a challenging look at the demon before nodding, and finally Heero, who took a long time to think before he gave his own silent consent.

As if it were some kind of demon's ritual the boys had unwittingly tapped into, Sei smiled sadly and nodded once, then suddenly shocked them by spreading his silver-black wings as far as the confines of the room would allow and gave them a grave gentleman's bow. And as if it was a signal, everyone relaxed. Heero sank back onto the pillows with a sigh of relief. Within a minute, his breathing went deep and even.

Sei's ears flicked toward the sleeping boy. "Perhaps we should get some sleep while we can," he whispered.

The boys all nodded to this and tiptoed out of the room, careful not to wake their friend. Sei followed them soundlessly, not needing to be cautious. He paused at the doorway and glanced back at Duo, who was staying in the infirmary because of his leg. The longhaired teen was snuggling into his blankets. When he was finished rucking up his bedding to his satisfaction, he looked up at the demon at the door. Their eyes met, and suddenly—

_Thank you._

"Wha—?" Duo sat up quickly. He looked at Sei with a mixture of sudden fear and uncertainty. "You psychic or somethin'?"

_That is correct. Don't worry about it, Duo. We'll all talk tomorrow. Get some rest._

Duo's brow furrowed. "Wait…doesn't that mean you could've, could've—possessed us and made us tell you to stay?" Duo's mind was racing, and his words, though soft so as to not wake Heero, became more and more panicked. "So—how could you? I _trusted_ you, I—you—"

Sei smiled another sad, sad smile and gently cut through Duo's frightened tirade. "No, Duo. Relax. To use my abilities to influence others is against my principles. Though I don't have such a rule prohibiting listening in on people's thoughts." He turned away. "Good night, Duo."

"But…" Duo was floundering, and he knew it. "How can we trust you?"

Sei paused, his tail moving in a wolf's slow wag. "You tell me." He walked out without a backward glance.

Duo stared after him in fear and astonishment. Slowly, still giving the doorway frowns intermediately as though Sei were lurking just beyond, he settled back down to sleep.

It was as he was drifting off that he heard the words form in his mind. _I know it's not much of a comfort to you, but try to take heart from this: that the laws of my people forbid me to harm any of you, since you are my hosts._

_Yeah, that's a _real_ comfort,_ Duo thought sarcastically.

The voice in his mind sighed. _I know. You will have to make your own decision. I won't dispute it._

_Wait. Why not?_ Duo asked the voice, suddenly curious. _You could rip us to shreds with those claws and teeth, anyway. You wouldn't tell anybody, so no one would be the wiser. Plus,_ he added uneasily, knowing he was putting notions into Sei's head, _if we told you to get out, you could rip us apart then, because we wouldn't be your hosts then._

_It doesn't work like that! I'm not a barbarian!_ Sei drew back somewhat, offended beyond Duo's understanding.

And, just like the abrupt flash of a lightning bug on a warm summer evening, he was calm again. _Never mind. Sleep, Duo._

_Ok, yeah…_ The pain from his leg and the ordeals of the last couple of days were taking their toll. Duo was on the edge, where there was nothing before him except the deep waters of blessed sleep.

Just before he dived, he heard Sei whisper to him, and he could have sworn that with the words, a beautiful, ethereal music flowed around him and through him. _We are pack._

That night, Duo dreamed of wolves, howling joyously as one.

* * *

(1) A rather accurate comparison is this: go outside and look directly at the sun for just a moment. When you close your eyes, you'll see a strange orb—where the sun was on your eyes a second before—on the inside of your eyelids that rapidly changes colors, which are usually some kind of bright neon. If the light was strong enough and you looked for long enough, you can see it when your eyes are open, too. If you disregard the pain (as well as the inevitable blindness) it's actually kind of fun.

* * *

Do you enjoy? Please R&R! 

I've already got more chapters written, but I'm not sure if I'll keep going with this fic...should I? Let me know.


End file.
